


Two stones of a heart

by Tipofmytongue



Series: A heart of stone [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Acceptance, Fluff, Fluff and more fluff, Holidays, Love, M/M, Romance, Sex, holmescest, mylock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:33:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28487613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipofmytongue/pseuds/Tipofmytongue
Summary: Sherlock is feeling melancholic the final day of their holiday with their parents."Tomorrow we’re leaving for England again and we have to go back to hide our relationship, to love each other in secret. Over these past weeks we’ve been able to hold hands in the streets, kiss in restaurants and act like any other normal couple. Tomorrow that will be over."
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes & Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes/Sherlock Holmes
Series: A heart of stone [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086719
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20





	Two stones of a heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to the story "My heart of stone". It's fluffy and even more fluffy. But we do see the Ice Man on his best as well.

Mummy Holmes were sitting in the darkness, listening to the crickets, feeling the warmth of the Italian spring caress her face. She smiled happily, thinking about the nice holiday she and her husband had been given by their two sons, who were now also lovers. They’d been traveling to France, Spain and had now wrapped up a two-week tour in the lovely wine country of Italy, topping it all up with a long weekend at this exclusive house, with a rose garden, a pool and… pure bliss.  
Then she heard voices above her, coming from the balcony adherent to her sons’ bedroom.  
“Are you coming to bed soon?” said the voice of her eldest son, who obviously had just entered the balcony.  
“Yes. I just…”  
“What, love?”  
“I want to savour this day, since it’s our last day here.” Sherlock said quietly.  
Mummy heard the scraping of a chair. Mycroft must’ve sat down, then.  
“You seem blue, brother dear.”  
“Maybe. It’s just… Tomorrow we’re leaving for England again and we have to go back to hide our relationship, to love each other in secret. Over these past weeks we’ve been able to hold hands in the streets, kiss in restaurants and act like any other normal couple. Tomorrow that will be over. It hurts a little, that’s all.”  
“Oh, sweetheart. I know.” Mycroft replied. “I wish it could be different.”  
“Well, it’s a small price to pay for the joy we’ve been given, Mycroft.”  
Mummy was touched by her sons’ words to one another.  
“You make me so happy too, and you know that. I’ve had the best weeks of my life. It was a good Christmas present for our parents. And for us.”  
“Do you think Mummy is overcompensating?” Sherlock asked.  
“What do you mean?”  
“She seems so overly excited about our relationship. She’s almost too accepting of it, so I just wondered. Maybe she is overcompensating for the fact that she still finds it uncomfortable.”  
Mummy’s heart skipped a bit.  
“I don’t know, Sherlock. She seems fine, doesn’t she? She’s very special, you know.”  
“I know. Not many parents would have accepted it at all.”  
“Exactly. Now, why don’t you come to bed?”  
“I will. Also, I’m sad that when we go back to England I won’t see you wearing shorts anymore, and your legs when you do that…”  
“When summer comes, I promise that I will wear shorts. Not in public, but home.”  
“Thanks. It’s a shame we have to leave. Italy is amazing.” Sherlock said, his voice melancholic.  
They didn’t say anything for a while, Mummy envisioned how her sons probably were caressing one another, small tokens of affection and love she had witnessed over the past weeks.  
“Let’s buy a house here, brother mine. For holiday use.”  
“Are you serious, Mycroft?”  
“Quite so. Now, my melancholic sweetheart. Let’s make the most of this last night in freedom.”  
Mummy heard sounds of lips meeting and then the scraping of chairs before her sons closed the door to the balcony behind them. 

***

Mycroft, who was only wearing a morning robe, undressed quickly and laid back onto the cosy bed they had been sharing the past days. Sherlock stood in front of him, ridding himself of his Hawaiian shirt and black trousers. There was burning lust in his eyes.  
“Oh, brother… You are so beautiful.” he said, and still, after all this time Mycroft blushed at this undivided affection from his baby brother and lover.  
When Sherlock had undressed, he moved himself on top of his brother and kissed him with fierce. Mycroft’s entire body was ignited with the most intense lust and passion a man could experience. His penis swelled as soon as their lips met and the kiss continued for several minutes. Lips on lips, tongues devouring tongues, hands caressing bodies – it was electricity, fire, northern lights and pure love. They panted into each other’s mouths, their cocks rubbed against one another and then Sherlock slicked his cock with lubricant and was ready to enter his brother.  
“Ready?”  
“Yes, now!”  
Slowly and gently, Sherlock entered him and the feeling was – no matter how many times they’d engaged in this activity – the best he’d ever felt.  
“God, Sherlock!” Mycroft cried as his brother had seated himself fully within him. He couldn’t believe how well they fit together. Their sex life was fiesty, spicy and full of devotion. Sherlock preferred topping, Mycroft preferred bottoming, but they also liked to reverse the roles from time to time. They were a rare and perfect set of brothers, of lovers, of partners in every aspect of life. Mycroft was so happy he could burst.  
“I’m gonna come, brother.” he cried after several minutes and Sherlock seemed to be expecting to erupt himself. And they did simultaneously. Mycroft’s arse clamped around Sherlock’s cock as his own cock sent out projectile after projectile. He felt Sherlock fill him up with his own release and it was the best feeling in the world. After their orgasms had passed, they both sweated and panted and Sherlock collapsed on top of his older brother, whispering soft words in his ear: “I’m so glad that you are mine. I’m the luckiest man alive, period.” he said. And without even removing himself from his brother’s behind, he fell asleep, and so did Mycroft after having gracefully saved the moment inside his favourite room in his mind palace. 

***

The next morning Mycroft woke up, feeling content and well rested. Sherlock had fallen off him some time during the night, but was lying peacefully curled up next to him. Mycroft picked up his book from the night stand next to the bed and sat up to do some reading while Sherlock slept. At the movement Sherlock once again found his brother’s body and sleepily lifted himself up and placed his head on Mycroft’s sticky and naked torso. Was there a better feeling than this in the world? There couldn’t be. It was a privilege to able to experience this with Sherlock and to be the only man who had ever been this close to him. It fulfilled Mycroft in every single way and once again he was reminded of how well they fit together, the two Holmes brothers.  
After some time, Mycroft felt the lovely smell of freshly made Italian black coffee and shortly after there was a knock on the bedroom door and their mother entered, carrying a tray of breakfast; there was coffee, fresh orange juice, slices of toasted bread, marmalade, cheese and grapes.  
“May I?” she asked. Mycroft felt slightly exposed as he was only covered by the thin blanket and Sherlock was still lying on top of him. He thought of the conversation they’d had last night and wondered how his mother was really feeling, watching her sons in this fairly compromised position. As if she had heard his thoughts, she sat down on the edge of the bed and Sherlock stirred, but didn’t move.  
“Really, Mummy?” Mycroft asked with a raised eyebrow.  
“Overcompensating” said Sherlock’s muffled voice, buried in Mycroft’s slightly hairy torso. Mycroft chuckled.  
“No, listen boys. I heard your conversation last night. I sat in the darkness underneath your balcony, your father was asleep. And anyway, I heard what you said about me.”  
Mycroft saw her eyes tear up and it saddened him that she’d had to listen to what they had been talking about - it had never been their intention.  
“And I’m not overcompensating.”  
Mycroft heard Sherlock grunt and then he shifted so that his face was also facing their mother.  
“I haven’t seen you since Christmas, and I barely had a glimpse of you then, and even in that short glimpse, I saw how happy you are together. And then we went on this wine tasting trip together, and it has been the most amazing experience of my life. I’ve seen you two together, walking hand in hand, kissing, caring, enjoying life, being nice to your mother and... most importantly I’ve seen you laugh again. You seem to be so ridiculously happy and I never would have believed that you two would ever find happiness. Not like this. Contentment maybe, but this… Boys. It’s every parent’s dream to see their children happy. That’s all we want in this world. My dream has come true. So well, maybe I’m fuzzing a bit around you guys, but it’s not overcompensating. It’s overdoing. It’s me reacting to your happiness, that’s all.”  
Mycroft was touched by this. He felt it in his heart. He had always craved his parents’ approval, much more than Sherlock ever had, but both his mother and father had given much more back to them now with the way they had accepted the fact that their sons were in an incestuous relationship.  
“I just love you so much, and I know you hate sentiment – well, no, you don’t, not anymore, you have become sentimental sods both of you…” she continued and Mycroft heard his brother grunt friendly. He caressed his black curls with his hand.  
“So, with that being said: Thank you for the most fantastic trip and I support you fully in your life choice and even though you may not be able to share your love with the world, know that your mother and father appreciate it fully. Now eat, we have to vacate the house before 2pm.”  
She smiled at them, got up from the bed and exited the room.  
“Seems all this sentiment is indeed frying your brain, brother mine. Your deductions about Mummy were wrong.” Mycroft said with a gleeful tone.  
“Shut up and give me breakfast.” Sherlock replied.  
“Can’t simply reach that with you on top of me, little brother.”  
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about that kind of breakfast” said Sherlock and moved underneath the blanket and put Mycroft’s entire penis in his mouth. Mycroft exhaled sharply and realised the real breakfast would have to wait. 

***

Mycroft was deliberately five minutes late. He often used that as a way to demonstrate that his time was of more value than everyone else’s, which it was.  
He entered the large conference room in Whitehall, which was usually reserved for negotiations between politicians, but this was, after all, a meeting with politicians, but without room for negotiation.  
Mycroft entered. He was wearing a dark blue three-piece suit and a red tie. Anthea followed behind him.  
Good. They were all there already; The Prime Minister, the leader of the Labour Party, the co-chaired leader of the Conservative Party, the leader of the Liberal party, the leader of the House of Lords and the Chancellor Exchequer, Secretary of State for the Home Department and the Lord Chancellor and Secretary of State for Justice. Morons, the bunch of them.  
Mycroft greeted each one and finally the PM. Their puzzled faced were priceless and Mycroft saw in Anthea’s eyes that she thought so too. What an amazing PA she was. They both sat down at the end of the table. The Ice Man was in the building and he saw the looks of terror that manifested on the faces of the politicians before him as they took in his stone-cold face that could bend every man to Mycroft’s will. They were scared shitless, the most prominent politicians of the country, but compared to him they were like small boys and girls on their way to the dentist. Oh, the power.  
“So, ladies and gentlemen. I have summoned you here for a very special reason. Hear me out before you speak.” Mycroft said in his cool, dethatched voice, trying his best to signal that he loathed being in their company, but the truth was that he was actually very nervous. Perhaps because something was at stake this time.  
“All of you here have been subjected to my extraordinary ability to clean up mess and sweep said mess under the rug. I will not belittle you by going into details, but you all know the numerous times you’ve all had to come to me for aid and help in order to keep your prominent positions. It should be unnecessary to express that I, in this matter, have the opportunity to withdraw the dust from the carpet, so to speak, should I not be satisfied with the outcome of this meeting. And the difference between you and me is that I need nobody’s vote in order to continue my job. You come and go and you do so at the mercy of your electorate… and me. Are we clear? Good.”  
They all looked like question marks, scared, stupid question marks. Mycroft smiled wickedly as he continued.  
“Now, I need you to do something. Consider it a repayment for all the moronic situations I’ve been subjected to thanks to your clutter with tax payer’s money, prostitutes, embezzlement, infidelity and imbecilic behaviour under the influence of alcohol and other drugs. So lovely it is, all of it, really. I need this tiny little adjustment to the law passed within Christmas and I expect you to make that happen. Unanimous.”  
Anthea gave them all a document and Mycroft let them read in silence. After the PM had finished reading, Mycroft spoke again.  
“You may speak, Prime Minister.”  
“Why are we doing this?”  
Mycroft’s mouth twitched slightly and the tiny movement seemed to make the PM sink in his chair.  
“Because I need you to.” Mycroft replied coolly and eyed them all.  
“Well then, Mr. Holmes, consider it adopted.” said the PM, shook hands with Mycroft and Anthea, and the meeting ended.  
When they had all left, Mycroft looked at Anthea who smiled lovingly at him and gave him an actual high five, and it made him smile in relief and joy. It was happening. It was finally happening. 

***  
It was yet another Christmas at the Holmes’ residence. Mummy had served them the best roasted duck Mycroft had ever tasted and they had enjoyed a lovely and silent Christmas Eve together, laughing and talking about the old days, the days before Victor Trevor’s death. The day before they had actually visited Eurus at Sherrinford again and she still didn’t talk, but Sherlock and she had played the violin together and Eurus had even acknowledged her parents’ presence. Mycroft still didn’t receive much love from her, but he deduced that her hostility toward him had evaporated a bit after the brothers had become a romantic item. She hadn’t murdered John that time, because Sherlock had actually managed to reach into her heart somehow, so there had to be some sentiment within her, and if she would spare John, she would probably accept Mycroft for loving Sherlock as well.  
Rosie was sitting at his lap in the living room, waiting for Mummy to bring the presents, and he had never believed that he would actually take to love a child as much as he loved her. Over the past year she had grown to love him as well, calling him uncle Mycie, and she was the only one he allowed to use a short version of his given name.  
“When did John and Andrew say they’d be back?” father asked as he poured them all some red wine while Mummy arranged the presents in front of the lit fireplace.  
“They left from Colombia two days ago. They got themselves installed at home yesterday and they’re coming here soon.” Sherlock replied. His phone beeped.  
“Ah, speak of the arse and it farts.”  
Mycroft laughed.  
“Ten minutes away.” Sherlock said.  
“Let’s wait with the presents then.”  
“Noooo!” Rosie cried.  
“Let’s wait for your daddies, Rosie, you wouldn’t want to open the fantastic present from your uncles without bragging to your daddies, now would you?” Mycroft asked her. Where this child-friendly way of speaking had come from he had absolutely no idea of, but somehow it had just happened. Once opened up his heart for his brother, a bunch of people seemed to have fallen inside it at the same time; John, Andrew, Rosie, Mrs. Hudson and DI Lestrade. People he hadn’t cared an inch for in the past were now people he appreciated and even loved.  
After about fifteen minutes the doorbell rang.  
“Ready to meet your little brother?” Mycroft asked Rosie and together they got up to open the door along with the rest of the family.  
John and Andrew came in carrying a beautiful one year old boy with caramel brown skin and dark brown eyes.  
“Hi guys! Meet William!”  
Mycroft looked at Sherlock and as did his parents. The shock on Sherlock’s face was so visible it was almost funny.  
“You’re naming him after me?” Sherlock said and lifted the little boy out of Andrew’s arms.  
“Unless William is actually a girl’s name?” John asked jokingly. “He’s great, isn’t he?”  
“Hi, little guy! You’re gonna be just as awesome as your uncle Sherlock and uncle Mycroft, yes you are!” Sherlock said and smiled at the new member of the extended family.  
“Congratulations, daddies.” Mycroft said and their parents joined in with the greetings.  
“Is he not a doll then?” Rosie asked and leaned in to touch her new baby brother.  
“No, he’s real!”  
“Cool. Hello baby.” She said and kissed him on the cheek.  
“Now, let’s open some presents, shall we?” asked Mycroft and they all went into the living room together. 

It was pure joy. Rosie was unwrapping her presents with the attention similar to any almost four-year old, but when she opened the present from Mycroft and Sherlock, she screamed gratefully to them both: She had been given her very own detective set, with a deerstalker hat and a magnifier.  
“Just like you, uncle Sherlock!” she said.  
“Yes, so now I’ll have to use you on my cases instead of your father. You’re much better than him anyway.”

“Wow, thank you, this is amazing.” Andrew said as he unwrapped the surround sound equipment Mycroft and Sherlock had bought them.  
“Wow, guys, this is too much.”  
“Yes, but if we are to endure one more dinner at your house with music coming from the god-awful speakers on your iPad, we will both succumb to a certain death, so it’s really a gift for us.” Sherlock said and the atmosphere of the room was on top.  
“We didn’t have time to get you anything, I figured you didn’t care much for Colombian souvenirs.” John said.  
“No worries, John. You have a life time to pay for the crime.”  
Their parents were given another trip, not as long as the wine tasting, but it was a week in a sea cottage in Cornwall together with their sons with the promise of repeating the giving of trips to them for each Christmas following.  
When Mycroft unwrapped the present from his brother, his heart almost stopped. It was a picture of the two of them, taken in Italy, framed in a black frame made of ebony. In addition there were a letter that said…  
“Oh my god, you’re kidding! Are you serious?” Mycroft asked.  
“Not up your street, brother dear?”  
“No, this is right up my street, never driven there, but this will be a first!”  
“What did you get?” Andrew asked curiously.  
“Salsa lesson.” Mycroft replied. “Sherlock’s quite the dancer. I like to dance, but I’m nowhere near his league.” He kissed Sherlock on the lips, felt the warmth of his mouth manifesting itself in his own being. Now it was one gift left and he felt he was shaking. Really shaking.  
“You okay, brother mine?” Sherlock asked, suddenly worried.  
“Yes. Here. Present for you, my love.”  
Everyone seemed to pay attention as Mycroft handed Sherlock a small box and an envelope.  
“The envelope first.” Mycroft said, his voice fragile. Sherlock seemed to adopt Mycroft’s state of mind, because there were trembling hands that started carefully opening the envelope. He took out a tiny piece of paper consisting of one paragraph. Sherlock read. He seemed to never stop reading, reading the paragraph over and over.  
“Come on, what does it say?” asked John impatiently and Sherlock looked away from the piece of paper and stared into the eyes of his brother. His eyes were full of tears.  
“You have done this for us?” he asked and the tears overflowed and started running down his cheeks. Mycroft used his hand to wipe them carefully away.  
“Boys, what’s going on?” cried Mummy, also full of impatience and excitement.  
“It’s…” Sherlock’s voice broke and he actually started crying loudly. He let his head fall onto Mycroft’s shoulder, and Mycroft caressed his back and kissed his black curls. The gift had been appreciated then.  
“My god, Sherlock, what’s…?” John took the piece of paper from Sherlock and read it out loud: 

“Marriage Act regulation of 2021.  
14.5 Marriage between blood-relatives  
Marriage between blood-relatives is forbidden according to table 28.1.  
Exception from 14.5. Same-sex marriage is allowed between relatives in table 28.2:  
A woman can marry:  
Sister  
Half-sister  
Adopted sister  
A man can marry:  
Brother  
Half-brother  
Adopted brother”

John finished reading. He looked stunned. As did the rest of their family. Even the kids were silent.  
“Did you make this happen, Mycroft?” Mummy asked and broke the stunned silence in the room.  
“Yes… Yes, I did.” Mycroft replied. And he didn’t have time to breathe before Mummy had thrown herself at her sons, hugging them tightly. Sherlock turned around and wiped his eyes, which were now red and swollen, but so beautiful, so calm. He smiled broadly.  
“Thank you” he said.  
“Now the box” said Mycroft, and he gave Sherlock the second present. Sherlock’s hands were still shaking and Mummy had seated herself next to them to watch the present being opened. As the paper fell to the floor, a white box was revealed. Sherlock opened it and inside were the two wedding rings Mycroft had bought the day the law had passed in silence in the parliament. The rings were made of white gold and had the family crest engraved on the outside, forming a beautiful and elegant pattern around the edges. Both rings bore a small black stone in the almost invisible shape of half a heart which together made…  
“… A heart of stone. Leytonstone.” Sherlock whispered.  
“Yes. Do you like it?”  
“Are you proposing to me, for real now?”  
“Stating the obvious, are we, brother dear?” Mycroft asked with a broad smile.  
“Aren’t you supposed to sit on your knee, or something?” Sherlock answered, almost managing to hide his shaking voice.  
“Middle age, brother, but I suppose I could make one exception.”  
Mycroft got up and sat down on the floor in front of the sofa him and Sherlock had been sitting on. He lifted one knee and took the left ring from the box in his hand. Mummy sobbed uncontrollably.  
“William Sherlock Scott Holmes, my perfect little brother and my life changing lover and partner, will you honour me in being my legally married husband? Mycroft asked. His heart was pounding. Knowing the answer to the question did not make it less nerve wrecking. Sherlock’s eyes swam in tears again and he leaned in and kissed Mycroft firmly on the lips.  
“Yes, my love. I will marry you” he said between kisses, and the room erupted in cheers and applause. It was time for a new area. 

***

“Hi everyone. Several of you were here on my wedding a life time ago. Those of you who were there will remember a best man speech that blew the minds out of the crowd. I will not deliver on that level, but I’ll give it a try. A lot have happened since then and for a long time in between I hadn’t thought I would ever be happy again. But a number of strange, embarrassing and life changing events have led me here today, side by side with the other best man of this wedding, Dr. Andrew Rivera, the love of my life, father of my children and… the whole reason we are here today. Andrew helped one of the grooms here to realise that the love he felt wasn’t harmful. In fact, it was the opposite. It was healing. It was pure, genuine and beautiful. I must admit, of all the people in this room I was the one to accept it last. I got a real kicker from Mrs. Hudson who basically told me to find another place to live if I didn’t support Sherlock and Mycroft in this, and she was right, as she always is. But I’ve known Sherlock for many years and it has been a carousel. Or several carousels. I lost you, I loved you and I hurt you. But we’ve turned over a new leaf and the times we’ve lived together for the past two years have been nothing but extraordinary. And I’ve even become close with your husband, which, if you’d asked me a decade ago when I was kidnapped into a strange warehouse and threatened, I would have said over my dead body – and probably meant it literally. But here we are, the four of us, being a great group together, and Andrew and I are so looking forward to going to your new holiday house in Italy! Oh, did I just reveal something now? Shit, sorry, Sherlock. Well, Mycroft's gotten you your house in Italy as a wedding present. Sorry I ruined the surprise. Well... Surprise! Anyway, back to my notes. Yes. Also, you guys are the best uncles for Rosie and William. I thank you for the important part you play in their lives. But today we’re here to celebrate you two. The roads you’ve walked alone all these years had indeed demons beneath, but somewhere along the way these two roads entwined and left the demons behind, only watching for the sunlight ahead. Mycroft, you even had the laws changed for your benefit, which tells me just how much you love each other. The fact that we now, today, can celebrate not only your everlasting love, but your marriage, is a sign that there are good things in this world, and even though there still might be demons ahead of us, we, who are here, have a life time ahead to prove to you that we are worthy of participating in the love that you both share.  
So, without much more rambling, because I’m about to cry my eyes out, I’ll like to finish with a little sentence my own partner said to Mycroft the first day they met:  
Happiness isn’t dangerous. It actually feels fucking great.  
So, let’s raise our glasses for the newly-weds: Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes!”

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my main language.


End file.
